Grant leaned over and tried the doorknob. It swung open. "You’re in luck. You also forgot to lock the door.”
"Oh,” I said. "Great." How come Kari never locked her doors? Didn’t she know that was unsafe? I looked inside. No sign of Kari. I stepped through the doorway. I had told her I was getting the manuscript, so she might not be surprised to see me at her house, but she would definitely be surprised to see Grant. And he would be really surprised to see her. "Thanks for lunch, and for the manuscript. I’ll, um—"
He let out a sigh and stepped inside after me. "Look, we need to talk. You know, about what happened at lunch. Or at least what I wanted to happen at lunch. Despite what you said about Michael, I think you wanted it to happen too."
What was I supposed to say to that? I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Then I heard footsteps clicking on the tile off in the left side of the house coming toward us.
CHAPTER 11
I grabbed Grant's hand and pulled him off toward the right side of the house. "Do you want a drink or something?” I asked. "Let’s go to the kitchen." We walked through a sitting room with a bay window that faced the front lawn. "This is my reading room,” I guessed. "It's where I go over my fan mail.” It had two doors. I took him through the one in the back, and we walked into a room full of shelves holding porcelain dolls and curios. "And this is my, um, doll collection room, and you can see I also have lots of ceramic cats because, hey, you can never have too many of those.”
The room was a dead end. I towed him back into the room. He raised an eyebrow at me questioningly, but he didn’t come right out and ask if I was lost in my own house. "I thought you’d like a tour while you’re here," I said, by way of explanation. "I don’t get many visitors, so I like to show the place off when I can." Then I pulled him through the other sitting room door. We went into a hallway. I didn't hear Kari coming up behind us, but that didn't mean we wouldn't run into her at any moment. I glanced into a doorway but didn't go inside. "That’s my den," I said.
He looked inside to be polite. "Nice.”
I pulled him farther down the hallway. "Here's my guest bedroom.” We walked a few more feet. "And another guest bedroom." Then we reached the end of the hallway and two doorways on either side. "And here are two more guest bedrooms."
He peered into each one. "For someone who doesn’t have a lot of visitors, you certainly have a lot of places to put them.”
“Well, you can only fill so many rooms with ceramic cats.”
"Are you avoiding talking about us?"
I pulled him back down the hallway. "No, not at all. Well, maybe a little bit." Where was the stupid kitchen? I was making enough noise that Kari would either know to stay out of my way, or come after me wielding a can of mace. Or maybe in a house this big she still didn't even know anyone had come inside. Would she scream if she suddenly saw us? And how exactly would I explain a screaming look-alike in my house?
I made it back to the first hallway and went the opposite direction this time. It opened up into a large family room complete with Roman-style columns and arched ceiling. Vases full of Michael’s three hundred red roses stood on the coffee table, end tables, everywhere. I spotted the kitchen on the other side of the room, and the counters were covered too.
"So I take it you like red roses,” Grant said.
"Yeah.” I didn’t offer any other explanation as I towed Grant into the kitchen. "I’m not sure what I have around to drink,” I said, and then ran into my next problem. I didn't know where the glasses were, and what was worse, I didn't see a refrigerator anywhere. Rows of cherry wood cupboards and cabinets surrounded us, and a huge island with a black granite top sat in the middle of the room. But she had to have a fridge somewhere in here, didn’t she? Everybody has a fridge. I turned around once, then twice, but didn’t see it. Was it in a different room altogether?
He took a step toward me and tilted his head, reading my expression. "Am I making you nervous?”
"No, no. I had the maid rearrange everything, and I can’t remember where I told her to put the glasses."
He walked over and took my hand. "You don't have to get me anything to drink. I just want to talk to you.”
"Okay.” It wasn’t really okay, though. Holding his hand made my heart race, and I had to tell him I wanted Michael to be my boyfriend, which would be hard to make convincing when I’d nearly kissed Grant in the restaurant. Would he think I was a hypocrite or just a tease?
I forced myself to look into his blue eyes and tried not to get pulled into their depths. I had to be strong. Kari wanted Michael, so that was that. Alexia Garcia didn't have a choice in the matter. Someone like Grant would never be interested in a poor girl from West Virginia.
Then I heard footsteps again, this time coming toward the kitchen.
I looked outside through the sliding glass door to where a huge pool sprawled in the backyard. "Let's talk outside.” I pulled him that way, tugging at the sliding glass door until it opened.
We stepped outside into the warm air, and I slid the door shut. This, I realized, was the perfect solution to my problem. When Kari walked by and saw us out here, the closed door would muffle her startled scream or angry gasp—or whatever was the normal reaction to finding your double hanging out with another teen idol by your pool. If I kept Grant's attention on me, he wouldn't look back into the house. And once Kari realized we were out here, she'd know she had to keep herself hidden until Grant left.
I strolled a few feet toward the pool. As far as pools went, it was spectacular. Hewn stones surrounded the water, like the earth had cracked open to create a lake for her. Waterfalls flowed on both sides, and a large Jacuzzi bubbled in the corner. One of the waterfalls only let out a trickle of water, though, and the pool man stood beside it, watching it with dissatisfaction.
Grant noticed him. “Are you sure this is the best place for us to talk?"
But I wasn't about to take Grant back inside while Kari was roaming around her house. “I'll tell the pool man he can leave," I said. I left Grant and walked toward the older man. I didn’t get too close, in case he could tell the difference between Kari and me. "Pardon me, can you come back and do that another time?”
The pool man looked past me to Grant, and then nodded.
He spoke with a strong accent, so I knew English wasn't his first language. "Okay. If you want, I come back tomorrow. I fix the chlorine level for you then too. It's okay?"
"Yes. Thank you very much.”
The pool man picked up his toolbox and a jug of chemicals, then walked around the side of the house. I motioned Grant to follow me to a couple of padded wicker chairs. I sat on one. He sat on the other.
"Now we can talk,” I told him.
He put his elbows on his knees and leaned toward me. I noticed how the light glinted off his brown hair and how his blue eyes looked a shade lighter out in the sunshine. "I know this is unexpected for both of us,” he said. "If someone had told me two weeks ago that Kari Kingsley was my type, I wouldn't have believed them. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, well, you’re nothing like I thought. You're smart and funny, and you were so good with the kids at the hospital. The staff is getting tired of hearing your CD, by the way. It’s all the kids want to play now. They told me to ask you when your next CD is coming out.”
“Not soon enough to save their sanity.”
He smiled and took hold of my hand, gently caressing my fingers. “I want to get to know you better. I think both of us would like that.”